I've finally eaten myself sick. It took a long time and a lot of money, but it has happened. Friends from Singapore are in town, and they invited me to dinner at Nello, an Italian restaurant on Madison Ave. They ordered. I ate. They kept ordering. Pasta. Truffles. Lobster. Veal. Desserts. And then came the cheese. By then, what I really needed was air and a walk around the block. Twelve hours later, I'm still full and a little uncomfortable. Right after I write a proper thank you note for such an extravagant dinner, I'm going to buy some Tums. That's all I need for lunch.
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